“Vincent,” Dora called, stepping closer.
Vincent’s arms stayed locked around me, one hand warm and possessive at my waist. He turned his head toward her, but his body remained pressed protectively against mine like a shield. I felt Dora’s gaze scorch across my skin.
“I’m heading back now,” she said, voice tight and strained.
“Okay,” Vincent replied calmly.
“Are you visiting Grandpa today? I can go with you.”
“No. I won’t.”
His hand slid slowly around my waist, drawing me even tighter against him. I stayed buried in the crook of his neck, face hidden, heart hammering wildly. I didn’t want to see her expression. I only wanted to disappear into him—safe, wanted, utterly his.
“Okay… Is she alright?” Dora asked, her eyes still burning into me.
“Yes,” Vincent answered simply.
The disapp
